


Airplanes

by IJM



Category: General Hospital (TV 1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJM/pseuds/IJM
Summary: Family bonding during an ice storm. A bit of fluff.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Airplanes

_Silence._

Franco Baldwin opened his eyes. The cessation of the soft whir of the fan he was accustomed to hearing all night woke him.

_Darkness._

The faint glow of the bathroom nightlight was missing. He took a deep breath and reached for his phone which was on his nightstand. It was only 11:38. This was going to be a long night.

Franco heard his wife Elizabeth’s steady breathing. She hadn’t woken up yet. He quietly slipped out of bed and once more grabbed his phone. Using the light application, he silently slipped down the stairs to adjust the gas fireplace. He hoped the amber fire from the logs would keep the living and dining area warm in the absence of central heat.

He walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. The neighborhood was pitch black. Within the shadows, he could make out the snow covered ground and low-hanging branches of trees weighed down by ice.

He and Elizabeth had not been caught unaware by this storm. If one thing was certain, the pipes in the basement were protected. They had learned that lesson the hard way. He thought back to the night that the pipes had burst the previous February. He smiled at the memory of the family slumber party in the living room.

He made his way back upstairs and found Elizabeth awake, “Where did you go?” she asked, setting her phone aside. The room was softly lit by a battery-powered lantern on Elizabeth’s nightstand.

“To adjust the fireplace. From the looks of things outside, we’re going to be in the dark for a while.”

“And it’s going to get cold,” Elizabeth added. The temperature in the bedroom had already dropped a couple of degrees since the outage. “I checked the forecast just now. There’s no sign of this storm letting up.”

“At least we have provisions,” Franco shrugged.

“Sure,” Elizabeth agreed with a grin. “I’ve seen the four of you go through a week’s worth of provisions in two hours.” _The four_ were her husband and three boys, all of whom could individually eat their weight in junk food.

“Should we wake the boys or wait for them to get cold?” Franco asked.

“I think we should grab the lanterns, raid the linen closet, and head downstairs. The boys will be up soon enough.”

The couple first gathered handfuls of battery-powered lanterns and took them downstairs before returning to the closet for the spare blankets. Elizabeth went back upstairs to retrieve their pillows while Franco laid out the blankets in front of the fireplace. The blankets were a mishmash of colors and patterns—monkeys on orange, forest creatures on green, footballs on beige, reindeer on red, and snowflakes on pink. The lanterns produced a soft light that almost rivaled the typical overhead lighting.

Was it inconvenient? Maybe. But it was nice to camp in the living room with the kids—forced family fun.

“We should play games,” Franco suggested.

Elizabeth snaked her arm around her husband’s waist. “The boys could be down here any minute,” she reminded him.

Franco laughed. “I meant slumber party games. School is canceled for tomorrow, so they won’t be the least bit interested in sleeping once they’re down here.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Karaoke?” he threw out the first thing that came to mind.

“That could be fun,” she agreed. “I have a thousand-piece puzzle too,” she told him. “Lessons learned from when the pipes burst.”

The clomp-clomp of footsteps on the stairs stopped their conversation. Jake and Aiden were coming down, both dragging their pillows behind them. Their way was lit by Jake’s phone.

“It’s cold,” Jake announced. “Did the pipes burst again?”

“No, just a power outage,” Elizabeth told her middle child. “A limb probably fell on a line or the ice could have weighed it down.”

“Why didn’t you wake us up?” Aiden asked.

“We knew you’d wake up on your own and we wanted to get the blankets ready,” she explained. “But since you are up, why don’t you go get your brother, so he doesn’t miss the fun.”

“What fun?” Aiden asked, yawning.

“Paper airplanes,” Franco announced, as he raided the printer that was on the computer desk.

“Paper airplanes?” Elizabeth repeated. “I thought we were singing.”

“No singing!” Cameron grumbled as he joined his family.

“You’re the best singer in the house!” Elizabeth argued. “Singing should be right up your alley.”

“Maybe later,” he shrugged. “What are we going to do with the airplanes?”

“Well, first we have to make them and decorate them,” Franco started. “Then the fun starts when we try to win points by hitting our targets.”

The boys listened closely, wanting to know more. Anything that involved _targets_ had intriguing potential.

“Hitting targets?” Elizabeth repeated. “Is that a good idea?” At least the room was lit with lanterns instead of candles.

“They’re just paper,” Franco shrugged.

Elizabeth sighed. She retrieved the art set that her husband got her for their anniversary. “We can decorate with these,” she offered.

Franco gave her a wistful smile. He had hoped Elizabeth would find time to delve into her own artistic pursuits, but somehow the art set had gone from the desk to the closet without much use. It wasn’t that Elizabeth had no artistic interests. She simply prioritized everyone else’s needs over taking time for herself.

There was a hum of activity while the family decorated their paper and made their airplanes. The boys talked about how awesome it was to get a day off and they made plans to put their sled to use when morning came.

Franco and Elizabeth exchanged knowing smiles—odds were that the sled would come out sometime in the afternoon because the three boys would be sound asleep by the time morning broke.

“I think we should decorate the planes after they look like planes,” Aiden spoke up. “It’s hard to guess what to put where on a flat sheet of paper.”

“That’s half the fun of it,” Jake told him, completely understanding the Franco’s method. There were no boundaries to limit the expression.

“You can do it that way if you want, honey,” Elizabeth assured Aiden. “There’s no right or wrong way.”

“There is a right and wrong way to fold the paper though,” Cam said, having made a plane that wouldn’t fly. He spread his paper as flat as he could get it and refolded it. “It works!” he announced as the plane glided towards the staircase. “What are the targets?”

Franco got to his feet and eagerly pointed out the items he had dubbed targets. “Ten points if you can hit the TV.”

“That’s too easy,” Cam scoffed.

Franco ignored the naysayer. “Twenty points if you hit the lamp.”

“Don’t hit my lamp,” Elizabeth objected with a slight whine. Laura had given her that lamp for her birthday at least a decade ago.

Franco ignored her too, confident that paper airplanes held no true threat. “Thirty points if you can hit the clock,” he said, pointing to the analog clock high on the wall behind him. “And fifty points if you can land above,” he ran halfway up the stairs, “This stair.” He darted down the stairs, grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, and dropped it on the floor. “This is the starting point,” he explained. “Feet behind the pillow at all times.”

“I’ll never make the stairs from there!” Jake exclaimed.”

“That’s why it’s fifty points!” Cam laughed. “I bet I can do it.”

“Go right ahead and try,” Franco encouraged him in the smack-talk tone of a sportsman.

Cam stood tall as he assumed the starting position. “Piece of cake,” he exclaimed aiming for the stairs. His plane sailed into the air for a moment, then nosedived before it reached the banister.

Jake and Aiden laughed.

“That would be zero points,” Franco clapped Cam on the back as Elizabeth snickered. “Jake, you’re turn!”

Soon the boys were taking turns aiming at the targets and realizing just how difficult it was to keep a paper missile airborne long enough to make any points. Aiden caught on quickly and started building up points by hitting the TV, the closest of the targets.

Franco and Elizabeth watched the flurry of activity and laughed as Cam and Jake got more and more frustrated and more determined to get a higher score than Aiden.

Elizabeth picked up her plane and zoomed it towards her husband. “Paper vacation,” she said softly, so the boys wouldn’t hear—not that they were paying attention anyway. “Where are we going?” She shifted and sat in his lap. Everything seemed right in the world. She was in love, her boys were happy, and her husband was the kind of dad he didn’t have to be.

The boys’ shouting and laughter faded into the background when Franco focused on his wife. “Australia,” he suggested. “We’ll have a g’day, Mate and I’ll bring you home a pet koala.”

She giggled. “Maybe a toy koala,” she offered, imagining adding a eucalyptus-loving pet to their chaos.

Franco let his fingers dance on his wife’s arm. “Where are we going when we leave Australia?”

“Greece,” Elizabeth decided quickly.

“Home of baklava,” Franco said.

“Baklava?” Aiden asked, sitting down next to his parents. “You have baklava?”

“Not yet,” Elizabeth answered. “We were hoping you would make some.”

“I can do that,” Aiden shrugged. His easy confidence was a stark contrast to the low self-esteem he had suffered just last year. “When the lights come back on.”

“I’m tired of airplanes,” Jake announced, plopping down beside his brother.

“Me too,” Cam agreed, dropping his plane on the floor. “Do we have any food?”

“Sure, but first, who won?”

“I did,” Cam announced. 280 points for me, 200 for Jake and Aiden only got like 100.”

“Because he only ever hit the TV.”

“Strategy,” Aiden said. He had given up when he realized he could easily win, but he wouldn’t be able to hit any higher-point targets.

“You can raid the snacks but stay at the dining room table. No food in the living room,” Elizabeth told them.

The boys got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Franco and Elizabeth comfortably sitting on the floor.

“I love our life,” Franco told his wife.

“Me too,” she agreed.

“We’re singing when you come back,” Franco yelled so the boys could hear. His announcement was met with three loud groans.

“I’m picking the playlist,” Franco added in response to their hesitation.

“This is going to be fun,” Elizabeth smiled. She kissed his cheek.

Franco touched his phone several times. He shocked Elizabeth when he said, “You’re up first. What song do you want?”

“I don’t think so,” Elizabeth resisted, punctuating her words by slapping Franco with a burgundy throw pillow. He grabbed the mate to the pillow and swung back. “You’re _my_ target,” Elizabeth dropped her pillow and put one hand on Franco’s cheek. Their lips met in a kiss.

Franco ended the kiss, knowing he would always give in to what Elizabeth wanted, “The target surrenders.”


End file.
